


Doubting Aside

by DustToDust



Series: Doubtful Sanity [2]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 15,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabbles from other POVs that do not fit the main story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [怀疑之外 / Doubting Aside](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2401937) by [blurryyou](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blurryyou/pseuds/blurryyou)



> Tumblr request for more Doubting Gets You Places.

Dick is tired. He’s tired and hungry and in very real danger of contracting a major case of the assholeitis as he pulls into the Cave. Parking his borrowed bike to the side where Bruce disassembles the vehicles they inevitably pick up on patrol. It’s a nice bike given he’d gotten it from a pimp who thought a motorcycle was a better investment than a bullet proof vest.

Dick _did_ catch the guys who shot the man because of it, but he still would have gone with a vest personally.

"Dick!" Steph calls out from one of the tables. Voice bright and happy in a way Dick’s just not feeling as she devours a sandwich at a terrifying rate. "Alfred got us roast beef."

 _May the gods bless that man_. Dick throws himself into a chair. Bumping his little sister out of the way and tearing into a sandwich. He nearly moans at the taste and Steph snickers at him. “Must’ve been a busy night if you skipped _snack time_.”

The way she emphasizes the words shows her derision of the sacred fifteen minutes Dick usually spends eating anything he can get his hands on during patrol. “Just you wait. Some day, you’ll grow out of that cute phase and people will stop feeding you on patrol. You’ll rue the day you ever mocked snack time then.”

Steph nearly chokes on her second sandwich as she laughs. It’s totally not fair though. There are people along Steph’s normal patrol routes that stay up just to feed the young Robin. Kids who hoard cookies like she’s Santa Claus and little old ladies who save slices of homemade pie. Dick knows. He used to be Robin and enjoyed those bounties, but the second he dropped the panties it’d all dried up. Nothing but mace and curses for Nightwing.

They demolish the plate in minutes. Steph reluctantly giving up the last sandwich when Dick flips his lenses down to give her the puppy eyes that’ve yet to fail him.

"Hey, Dick," Steph starts with a frown as he stands up to shower and change. He gives her an encouraging smile when she hesitates. "There’s this guy at school-"

Dick's stomach turns to lead and he sits back down immediately. His smile stretching across his face. Forced and nearly feral. “Really? What’s his name?” And his address and his description.

"Not like that," Steph rolls her eyes in exasperation, but Dicks not falling for that move this time. Last time, Steph had brought home an asshole after pulling that line to make him back off. "Seriously, Dick, I’m pretty sure he’s gay, and that’s not what I want to talk about," she says louder as he opens his mouth because she’s tried that one too and it ended just as badly. "I think he’s getting hit at home."

 _That’s a new one_ , Dick thinks before his brain kicks him. That's not a subject that Steph would throw around lightly. “You got proof?”

"He’s bruised up a lot," Steph’s frown is stubborn now and Dick nearly sighs at the obvious evasion, "and his dad drinks all the time. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him not drunk."

"Anything else?" Dick asks knowing the answer already, but giving her the benefit of the doubt. Steph is silent. "Does this kid admit it’s happening?"

"No," Steph grudgingly admits. Her face set and mulish. Which he take to mean the kid probably goes out of his way to say the opposite.

"Steph, you know we can’t-"

"I know!" Steph shouts and Dick can hear the frustrated end of several conversations with Bruce in it. "I know it won’t do any good without proof, I know we can’t help him if he won’t admit it, I know we can make it worse if-" Steph slumps down on the table her hair spilling out to hide her face. "It just sucks. I want to help him. But."

Dick reaches out and starts combing some of the tangles out of her hair. “Hey, you talk to this guy at school right?” Steph nods mutely. “Well keep talking to him. You might be helping just by being his friend you know? So just stick around him. Maybe he’ll start talking one day. And then?” Dick smiles as she peeks out through her hair at him. “Well, I hear Robin’s got a pretty nasty punch these days.”

Steph’s laugh follows him into the shower.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim wanted a training montage before the main story and I denied him. Harshly. Not before he snuck the beginning of it into my head though.

Dinah Lance is a terrifyingly open woman. She takes to Tim with a quickness that Tim’s Gotham bred suspicion doesn’t like one bit, and, if the way Babs is smiling is any indication, it’s an amusing sight to see.

"He’d be delighted," Dinah repeats as she smooths a lock of hair out of Tim’s face. There’s only the slightest hint of misgiving in her eyes as she obviously looks down at Tim’s small frame. There and gone in a matter of seconds. "I think Connor would like a chance to see what being a teacher is like."

And maybe make a friend. Tim hears the unspoken lament that he’s only overheard her saying a hundred times while hiding in one of Babs’ rooms or closets. “Well, then, I’m sorry he’s going to try on me.”

"You’ll be fine," Babs rolls up, a printed packet of airplane tickets in her lap as she reaches up to pinch Tim’s cheek. All sharp nails and sharper smile. "I just want you to get the basics so we can really start running you through the grinder here. It always works best if you get some outside teaching before getting it all beat out of you."

That makes no sense to Tim in a way that is kind of terrifying as Dinah laughs. Her arm, all muscle, wrapping around Tim and pulling him into a playful hug as the woman says, “We’ll make a fighter out of this one in no time.”

~

Star City is light and open in a way that sets Tim on edge. They’re not even out of the terminal and Tim’s already got a ten page list of differences. He wonders if Star City is that much different, or if it’s just Gotham that’s different. He’s pretty sure it’s the latter when he takes a deep breath and starts coughing.

"You’ve never been out of Gotham before, have you?" Dinah steers him to baggage as Tim coughs and realizes that, yes, the very air smells different. Her voice is sad as she pats his back lightly. “I guess that’s what makes you so good at what you do. You’ll get used to it in a bit.”

"Thanks," Tim breathes out as he seizes control of his lungs and forces himself to take calm, measured breaths. Doubtful that the off scent will be something he can ever get used to.

~

Watching Connor move is not at all unlike watching a dancer. He moves across the mat lined room with a fluidity that Tim’s only really seen in Dick Grayson until now. His body knows the moves and each one is made without thought. One flowing into another in a mesmerizing dance that doesn’t look deadly until you imagine another person in front of him. Connor spins to a stop with one last strike. His body low to the ground and tense as he breathes it all out. His body going lax before he stands up and looks expectantly over at Tim.

Tim looks at Connor, looks at the perfectly smooth mat, and looks back. “I’m reasonably sure that I can’t walk across the room without tripping over my own two feet.”

Connor doesn’t look upset or frustrated that his student is proving to be reluctant. He gives Tim a small smile and lays a hand encouragingly on his shoulder. “Well, you have to start somewhere to learn things, Tim. Just try it. It will give us an idea where to start.”

Tim stares up at that smile and doesn’t do anything but nod. He knows himself too well to trust what might come out of his mouth. He already has the sinking feeling that he’s going to be paying for these next few months in ways he thought were behind him. Tim manages a rough approximation of the set that Connor had shown him by the end of the day. Jerky movements and stumbling steps that Connor praises him for even as Tim picks himself off the floor. Face a red mask of mortification as they get called in for dinner.

That night, Tim dreams about Connor’s dark skin under his hands.

~

Tim wakes early. 3AM early because his last job had been taking photos of a late night crowd that only surfaced around 4AM, and he still hasn’t gotten back into the habit of staying up late to sleep late. Awake, he moves out of the guest room and makes his way through the house. It’s silent in a way that’s comforting to Tim as he makes his way to the practice room.

There’s a window and enough moonlight comes in that Tim doesn’t bother turning on a light. He settles himself into the opening stance Connor had patiently corrected him on until he had it down pat. He moves. Going through the motions as best he can remember them, and he thinks about it. Thinks about what each move is meant to do. How he can use each one if he needs to.

Without the weight of Connor’s eyes it’s easier. Tim disconnects from the movements. Lets his mind retreat just a bit and his body move without thought. Tim practices until a door in the house clicks open, the sound sudden and loud as a gunshot. He stops and notices the light coming in through the window is from the sun and not the moon. His arms ache a little but Tim feels almost peaceful as he goes into the house and finds Connor coming down the stairs.

"You’re awake," Connor smiles and seems almost as surprised as he is pleased.

"I’ve been waking early at home for work," Tim holds onto that sense of peace as Connor bends down to slide on some running shoes. It’s just after six and they’re the only ones up, so no one notices the way Tim looks everywhere else but the man.

"I usually run until breakfast. Would you like to come?" Connor asks as if it’s fine whichever way Tim answers. As if this isn’t something that Tim might actually need to do before even beginning to approach the levels he needs to be at for this training.

"Sure," Tim stares at his bare feet and shrugs as he turns to go back up the stairs. "Just give me a bit."


	3. Chapter 3

Jason's heard a lot about the Oracle. How he's -- _she's_ \-- got eyes and ears everywhere. Her fingers in every pot the city has. Tilting the odds and selling her services for the right price. She works across the lines, not turning away anyone from either side of the fight without a damn good reason. Her name had come up almost from day one of Jason getting back into Gotham.

Finding her feelers in the city wasn't hard for Jason. Finding one high enough up the chain to be able to put in a word personally was a bit more of a challenge. He'd almost put his bid in with a brother and sister team when he stumbled across a dark haired boy putting his nose into some business that was clearly out of his league.

The Russians were hard and intimidating men that loomed over the really very fragile looking boy with a ratty hoodie and even rattier looking bag slung over his back. Jason had thought he'd have to step in just to save the kid's ass for a few minutes before it registered that the men were _deferring_ to the scrawny punk.

Tim, no last name given, was apparently one of the unsung forces in the city. A quiet, unassuming kid that even the toughest bruisers listened to if they knew what was good for them, because messing with him was the same as messing with Oracle. And there was no telling what kind of favors that woman could pull.

So, little Timmy it was. Jason had put in his request and the kid, who really wasn't that much younger when Jason got close enough to see him, would pass it along. Deal done and over. All he had to do was wait to be contacted to work something out between them.

Jason's not really sure why he shadowed Tim afterwards. Keeping up with the buses and nearly breaking his neck one too many times when the bus route turned into the nicer areas of Gotham. Kept going right past them and entered the extremely nice areas. The spots just a rung or two below the cavernous manor houses that exist just outside the city.

Tim trudges through streets clean enough to eat off of and turns to a building big enough to be a six family apartment, but is only meant for one family in this part of the city. Jason vaults onto the building's sloped roof and glances around. There's a faint light coming from one of the windows on the backside. Jason scales down the wall, stopping briefly at a window that looks into a bedroom. Single bed, typical teenage school paraphernalia. He goes down even further and finds himself looking through a dark kitchen into a living room.

He gets a glimpse of the back of someone's head, slumped back over the edge of a wheelchair, before Tim blocks his sight. Walking wide around the man in the chair before leaning over to the right. Stretching out to reach for something just beyond the door frame. Tim's very careful to keep as much distance as possible from the man. Stepping back with a bottle of something alcoholic. 

Jason goes very still when Tim turns and walks into the kitchen, but the kid bypasses the window and heads for the sink. He tilts it curiously before bringing the bottle to his mouth. Almost upending it for a single swallow before he dumps the rest out in the sink. There isn't much left.

He waits for Tim to turn his back before climbing back up to the top floor window. It's a cheap lock for the rich area, and Jason's in the room in a matter of seconds. Reaching out for the lamp on an honest to fuck desk, Jason takes in the details more thoroughly.

There's a pile of school books next to a fancy looking computer setup. The desk, bed, dresser, and bedside table are all heavy, expensive looking wood. The mattress itself is softer than anything Jason's been on in a good long while and he stretches out on it with relish. A digital clock blinks on the desk, and there's absolutely nothing else in the room.

No posters or pictures, no piles of clothes, no little toys or accessories. Little things that most people seem to gather are absent from the room. It's lived in but absolutely impersonal. Jason wonders if this is even where Tim lives, or if it's just something --crippled, drunk man aside-- he uses occasionally. 

The door rattles and Jason watches Tim come in the door. There's no surprise on his face when he sees Jason waiting for him, and the phone in his hand is still lit as he crosses the room to place his bag down. He turns back to face Jason, and his voice is patient and not angry at all, "It takes more than an hour for her to check her voicemail, you know?"

It's a total lie and they both know it, but Jason let's it slide. "Right. Not why I'm here though, baby snitch," his own half-lie rolls off his tongue before he can stop it. Jason's still not really sure why he is here. Vague curiosity about the kid working the streets has only sharpened, and Jason's left grasping for something. An excuse to stick around a little longer and poke at Tim. Find out what's really got him so interested.

"Oh?" Tim smiles and Jason has no doubt at all that the guy was born to money. It's perfect and polished like all the fake smiles he saw at every charity and gala event when he was Bruce's ward. A perfect little image of civility that clashes with Tim's ratty clothes and the very dangerous --and even dirtier-- work he does for Oracle.

That, right there, Jason realizes is it. Tim is _money_. He's well bred and upper crust product. Manners and civility and a casual disregard for exactly how powerful that makes him. He's also got his hands elbow deep in the dirtiest stinking piles Gotham can offer. Running with people that can make him disappear without breaking a sweat and making _them_ listen to _him_.

It's interesting as all hell, and Jason knows himself enough not to discount Tim's looks from the equation either. In proper lighting, Jason lets himself really look, and Tim is a delicate looking thing with eyes sharp enough to cut. It's a look that he really appreciates.

"You seem pretty smart. Considering," Jason says, eyes taking in the room and remembering the area. A few questions coming to mind that he seizes on as he continues, "And I really just need a few quick answers tonight. I can wait for your boss lady to contact me on the rest."

"I'm not really equipped for independent contracting," Tim's eyes narrow as he hedges. He's loyal then, and Jason considers that a good thing. An informant willing to cut their boss out of a deal wasn't very reliable, or alive for very long. He hasn't _heard_ about Oracle killing anyone, but Jason's not going to discount that out of hand.

"Oracle can add it to my bill," Jason frowns and throws out a name. "The Joker."

Tim blinks, the only reaction he gives away. His voice is cautious as he prods for clarification, "Yes?"

"Where is he?" Jason already knows the answer, but confirmation never hurts. It's also giving him some insight into both Tim and Oracle. Joker is one of the few that she openly does not deal with, and the cautious look on Tim's face tells Jason there's a damn good story behind the why of it.

"Arkham," Tim states with little hesitation or uncertainty. He frowns, a furrow forming between his eyes. The fingers on his right hand slowly rub at the hem of his hoodie. A area even more worn than others. "That's information anyone could get. Why ask me something like that?"

"Because anyone on the street can make a wrong guess, and the docs don't like advertising when their pet psychos get loose," Jason rolls his head, feeling a slight crack as he goes for the other side of the pendulum. It takes more effort than he likes to not spit the next name out. "Robin."

Tim goes absolutely still in a way he hadn't when Jason had mentioned Joker. His face smooths out into a mask of indifference and the fingers of his right hand are tense and still. "What about her?"

It's all the answer Jason really needs. Something curls up sharp and hot in his chest, but he already expected it in a way. Someone who dealt with as much information as Oracle did couldn't be operating wholly on their own. They'd have to have Batman's approval or they'd be shut down fast. The fact that Oracle still deals with more criminal elements is probably deliberate. 

It means Jason will have to be very careful in what he gives away when Oracle contacts him. Nothing he's not perfectly capable of doing. 

"Nothing. Never mind that," Jason rolls to his feet and ignores the window. Sizing Tim up as he moves closer. Tim's head tips back to look him in the eyes even through the mask. His gaze is calm but almost challenging. Jason grins and reaches up to catch his face with one hand. Pushing his thumb against his soft, lower lip and regretting the glove he's wearing. 

Tim's eyes flash and they look almost like ice. His left hand snaps up and out with speed and precision that speaks of training that Jason hadn't thought the guy had before. Jason's hand tingles from the force as Tim snakes around him in a fast move that makes Jason want to see him fight.

It'd be a sight to see. Jason brings his hand up towards one of the filters on the mask. He recognizes the faint scent and smiles at the wary and puzzled look on Tim's face, "Waste of perfectly good whiskey, baby snitch."

There might or might not be a hint of red along Tim's face at the repeat of the name before Jason jumps out of the open window. Jason likes the look of it. Regardless of how his dealings with Oracle go, he resolves to put that flush there as often as he can.


	4. Dreaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for Tim daydreaming about Jason in this verse, and Tim's always struck me as being very romantic when he was younger.

The picture bleeds through as Tim watches. Lines and shadows darkening as he swishes the slick paper through the developer solution. The acrid sting of the chemicals pricking his nose as he leans in close to see the image appear. Robin forms slowly. The dark green of his shoes and uniform followed by the red and then the yellow last. His dark hair and bright smile perfectly crisp in a way that Tim hasn’t been able to get before.

Tim is officially in love with his new camera. He fishes the photo out with wooden tongs and dips it into the fixer before sinking it into the wash. Admiring the contrast he can see even in the red light of his darkroom. Each of the photos he develops shows the same lack of blurriness that’s plagued his photos for so long. In minutes he has a dozen photos hanging up and dripping dry.

Tim puts his unused paper away and flips the light over. Taking the still damp picture of Robin with him as he leaves the dark room.

The manor is silent. The housekeeper having left for the night over an hour ago, and his parents not even half way through their trip to China. Tim goes straight for his room. Not feeling very comfortable anywhere else in the building. He flops out onto his bed and looks at the picture. Careful not to smudge or scratch the still soft surface.

Robin is midflight. Tim having captured him at the very apex of his jump. The line wrapped around his fist and his grin a mile wide as he looks as close to soaring as any human being can. Tim wonders what it’s like. Flying through the city like that. He wonders if it’s like the swooping feeling you get on a rollercoaster at the very top of a drop. He wonders how hard it would be for Robin to fly like that with someone else.

It’s one of his favorite thoughts. Of flying along with Robin. The wind rushing past them as Robin holds Tim tight. That bright grin pressed against Tim’s face as Gotham passes below them. Bright and beautiful even under all the grime. A laugh that Tim only hears from a distance echoing in his ear as they fly.

The skid as they land on a roof. Tim’s feet not touching the ground until Robin has his balance, but his arm staying tight around Tim. “Hey, you have fun?”

Robin is taller than Tim so he’d have to look up to see him. Almost blind from the grin as Robin’s other arm slides around him, pulling him closer as he tips his face down. Into a kiss that tastes like the wind.

Tim presses his fingers to his lips, the photo so close to his face he can almost taste the chemicals as he tries to imagine what that kiss would feel like. Soft and warm. Not at all like the brusque and cold kisses he gets at the airport from his mom. It’d be something to change the world, like the movies always show. Something that would be special and just them.

Tim grins into the darkness of his room and carefully traces the sharp line of Robin’s mouth as the hours slip by. Batman and Robin leaving their base next door to patrol the city. Tim will follow in a bit, for now he lays still and thinks about smiling, laughing kisses.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I have this long thought out theory on how Jay's antagonism and anger towards Steph is the same as it is for Tim in the comics. They both took Robin. But, unlike Tim, Steph isn't going to stand for that crap. Because she _never wanted it_ and knows she is a replacement that's failing to live up to her predecessor (she isn't but she feels that way). And they sort of have an epic smack down fight in which they both throw their Issues at each other at the top of their lungs and then, well, this happens.
> 
> I just don't think I can write out the heart rending that was the fight at the moment.

"Your ass is fat," Steph says through her throat that's sore from screaming. The words thick and she can't stop the annoying sniffling sound when she breathes. Her only consolation is that from the way they landed Red Hood can't see what all the snot and tears has done to her face. She is totally ignoring the fact that he saw it all while they were fighting and screaming at each other minutes before. "Get off me."

Hood shifts slightly. His weight on top of her decreasing before he collapses suddenly jolting pained groans out from both of them. His voice is thick too, and she's sure that it's not just the broken ribs that are making his breathing sound so off. "Can't. You broke me, and you're the fat ass here."

"Am not," Steph bites her lips as a crazy smile threatens to break across her face. She's a giant mess of bruises, blood, and most definitely broken bones. Her throat aches from everything she's screamed, her ears burn from everything he's screamed, and her heart really can't take any more emotional rollercoasters right now. Thank you very much.

"Are too," Hood's voice is muffled and she can hear the humor curling through it. He feels it too, they are on the same page for once. "My face is _on_ it. It's all I can see. Literally."

"Pervert," Steph tries to pull herself out from under him, but her arms give after one tug and something in her back screams at her to stop what she's doing and just lay there. "What'll Tim think when I tell him?"

"I'll bite your ass," Jason warns, and she can feel him move his head worryingly. She recalls several stories from Dick that ended with, '-and then Jay bit him' and has no doubt that threat isn't idle. "You leave baby snitch out of this."

Baby snitch. That's so adorable she wants to vomit and coo all at once. Of course, the nausea could be the result of what she suspects might be a mild concussion.

"Stop ogling my butt then," Steph relaxes and wonders when Dick or Bruce will come by to save them from this awkward situation. "Stay faithful to your man or I'll sick big bird on you."

"I'm not ogling it. I'm staring it down out of terror that it's going to suffocate me," Jason grumbles as he manages, somehow, to slide part of his weight off of her. A move that costs him if his grunts of pain are anything to go by. She appreciates his sacrifice though because breathing becomes ten times easier almost immediately. "Goddammit, did you have to go for the ribs?"

"Suck it, bitch," Steph throws a single finger up in the air, but is too exhausted to actually give the words or the action the flair they deserve. "I am Robin, and you better respect my right hook."

"Noted," Jason growls and it's such a spot on imitation of B that Steph starts laughing even though it hurts like a bitch. Jason joins her. His laugh stuttering from pain. Getting louder and harder until they can both pretend the tears are from that and nothing else.


	6. Chapter 6

Kon's tracking the arrivals at the tower vaguely as he flips through the two hundred plus channels they get and still fails to find anything interesting. Mia was already here when Kon arrived and he's fairly sure Ravager is lurking on the mainland waiting for Kon to get distracted so she can scare the crap out of him. Listening to the crack of Bart breaking barriers, and the sound of Cassie's heart when she lands on the roof.

He hears the jet before it lands, and already knows Robin's getting dropped off by her brother even before he hears Nightwing talking. "I'll see about getting you a room. Vic's probably already got one set up for you, but it might not be near Robin. So...."

"I'll be fine," Kon blinks and stops flipping through channels as an unfamiliar voice pipes up. Male and his heart is tripping a little fast. "You're trying to sell me on joining, but all you've done is warn me about things. And people."

Huh. Kon gets up and goes out the window. Going straight up to see the new guy, and wondering who --or what-- any of the Bats would want to bring in on the team. It's a healthy bit of paranoia that everyone _but_ Robin has told him was ridiculous. Robin had just smiled and encouraged him to keep that attitude up with a creepy laugh that had chilled Kon to the bone.

He doesn't feel it when he lands on the roof and finds Robin draping her arm over a thin guy in a ratty sweater and ridiculously oversized sunglasses. "Aw, don't let big bird scare you. It isn't anything worse than what you normally deal with."

"You're going to have to understand if I'm not exactly reassured," the guy says in a desert dry tone of voice before he turns --in _tandem_ with Nightwing and Robin-- to face Kon. "Hi."

"Hey," Kon eyes the trio but gets absolutely nothing from any of them. "So, who's this?"

"New meat," Robin says with the smile she gets when she's about to tortures someone. Mentally, physically, psychically. Kon knows it's as much for the new guy as it is for him, and that he's going to get lied to even before she opens her mouth again. "This is A-"

"Tim!"

"Aw, Speedy!" Robin pouts as Mia strides across the roof and drapes herself over new guy's other side. "You ruined my fun."

"It was a terrible plan," new guy, or Tim, says to Mia as he wraps an arm around her in a half hug. "How've you been, Mia?"

"Bored, terrified, disgusted, seriously underwhelmed," Mia says with a grin that Tim mirrors.

"So Ollie's still trying new recipes out," Tim laughs, "I don't miss those dinners."

"It's easier to ninja the bad food into the trash with you around though. Connor's not as good at distractions as you are," Mia sways and that seems to be the signal they all need to walk toward the stairs as one unit. Neither girl letting go, and Kon. Kon is mature enough to admit he's a little jealous.

"But, wait," Kon says too late. "What?"

An arm drapes over his shoulder and he almost jumps because he _forgot_ Nightwing was there. "New recruit. Tim's good at what he does and you guys could really use him. So, be on your best behavior and help us convince him joining is a good idea."

"But what does he _do_?" Kon calls out but only gets a wave as Nightwing disappears down the stairs. And a laugh, too low for anyone else to hear.

Kon scowls and follows down through the stairs. Determined to keep an eye on this new guy. He doesn't like it, not one bit.

~

Tim is involved in a highly technical discussion with Victor that makes Kon's head hurt trying to understand the terms they're using so he blocks them out. It's almost a given that Victor will like him. Kori already does simply because Nightwing recommended him. Gar doesn't seem to mind the guy one way or another.

"I like him," Bart says with a grin that Kon hasn't seen on his face too much lately. "He's smart and he's funny."

Kon knows Tim's smart, he only has to concentrate to hear that, but he doesn't think he's all that funny. He's kind of awkward and dorky actually. He's sarcastic and most of what he says is a play to get attention off of him fast. Sure, it's funny and biting, but Kon seems to be the only one seeing how uncomfortable the guy is.

Mia and Stephanie like him, but the two girls obviously knew him from before so they don't count. Rose seems to like him as much as she's capable, but that probably has more to do with the fact that he _sells_ stuff to whoever pays him and deals with mercenaries a lot. What stuff he sells is something that Kon _still_ isn't sure of even after they were all told what he does. 

Kon turns to Cassie who's looking something up on her phone and seems to be completely disinterested, "Cassie?"

"What?" She looks up and seems to not understand his silent pleading at all.

"Tim," Bart cuts in before Kon can verbalize anything, "can we keep him? I like him."

"Sure," and Cassie's back to her phone. No questions or wanting to see Tim prove himself at all. "If he wants to stay he can. I think he'd help us out a lot."

"Yes!" Bart blurs across the room and inserts himself into Tim and Vic's conversation easily. Now Kon has to block out all three of them.

"Why?" He asks but Cassie's ignoring him again like she usually does at the start of the weekend. He doesn't get why but he's learned not to push too much unless he wants to get thrown through the walls again. He goes back to flicking through the TV and hopes that some of the others will show up soon. Maybe they'll be more reasonable.

~

Concrete dust clears slowly and Kon grimaces as he filters it out with his TTK to keep from breathing it in. "I almost felt that."

"Well I _am_ feeling it," Blue Beetle's voice snaps over the comms. Tight and breathless in the way he only gets when he's barely keeping up with the action. "So a little help would be great right now!"

The aliens are strong but that's the only defining feature they have. Everything else about them is so blindingly average that Kon's not sure if they've tried invading the Earth before or not. It's a bad thing when the aliens start blending together, right?

"Oh, I don't believe this," Tim's voice cuts through the various grunts and cries bouncing through the comms.

"What!?" Kon launches himself into the air and right into one of the vaguely insectoid aliens. Hitting it hard and feeling like he's hit a pile of bricks without his shield up. "Listen, uh, whatever we're calling you-"

"Tim, you're calling me Tim because I'm not going to be wearing any tights or masks anytime soon. So you can forget the stupid nicknames," Kon swears he hears something from Robin that sounds like 'baby snitch' but he's reeling from a punch and could be wrong on that. "And I've found the alien's weakness." 

"Well, what is it!?" Kon's usually all for quips and snark while fighting but they've been at this one for an hour now and even Kid Flash is getting tired.

"Water," Tim says with a snort. "It's why they're invading Texas."

"How the-"

"Where's the closest source of water?" Wonder Girl interrupts Kon's very valid question about _how_ he figured that out when he's still back at the Tower.

"A mile North," Tim says immediately. "It's a reservoir and the closest source you have right now. Swing away Merrill, swing away."

"That movie sucked," Speedy manages to say before Wonder Girl is barking orders and they're shifting the battle towards the water. Tim's right. The aliens lose most of their strength upon contact with it and clean up is much easier.

"Good job, Tim," Wonder Girl makes a point of saying over the comms and Kon scowls. He's starting to hate this.

~

Tim has the Bat propensity for late nights and easily beats Kon at almost every video game he can pull out.

"Are you serious!?" Kon gapes at the screen where he's just been _decapitated_ by a ninja like move. Tim rotates the camera on his end and Kon can finally see the ledge he'd used to get the drop on Kon. "You're cheating!"

"No, you just suck," Tim's smirking and is slouched out comfortably on the couch. Ratty sweater, jeans, and socks. He's lost the sunglasses and his face looks pinched without them. 

"No, you suck," Kon brings up the menu and restarts the match. "I'm so kicking your ass this time."

"Your funeral," Tim says and the bastard is laughing at him. It takes less than three minutes for Kon's character to get decapitated. Again.

"Argh!" Kon drops the controller and clutches his own head because he's one broken controller away from being banned from any of the game systems. "How?!"

Tim's laughing too hard to explain though and Kon snatches his own controller away. Rotating the camera and finding _another_ hiding spot in the map that Kon swears he'd memorized. Kon wonders, for one flash second, if throwing the controller through the TV would make him feel better. Enough to counteract the fact that Cyborg will program everything more complicated than a microwave not to turn on when he's near it.

"I hate you," Kon mutters as he slumps back into the couch and gives up on winning. Tim is well liked, he's funny, he's smart, and he's a genius at video games too. He's lost and Kon feels stupidly petulant over it. "You suck."

Tim winds down slowly and aims another grin at Kon, "You know, you're not like how Steph said you would be."

"What?" Kon frowns and pulls his controller back up to him with a thought. "Why, what'd she say I was like?"

"She said you were an asshole," Tim says and Kon can hear the word in Robin's voice. He's heard it often enough, usually right after she wings something hard and deadly at his head. "She said a lot of things but I think she was just trying to freak me out. You're actually pretty cool."

And just like that Kon does feel like an asshole. "Well, I am kind of a dick."

"If you say so," Tim retrieves his own controller and brings up the menu again. "Want to try another map, or are you willing to concede how much you suck?"

"Oh, you're on, geek boy," Kon doesn't feel like such an ass anymore and takes over the selection and brings up a map that he really does know. "I've got this one."

"You wish," Tim smirks and they begin.

Kon thinks he might have been just a little too quick to dislike Tim. There might actually be something for him to like in the new guy after all. He can't be all that bad if he likes hanging out with Kon after all. The screen on Kon's half goes red and cracks and Kon watches as his character falls to the ground bleeding from a headshot. "Oh, you suck so much!"

Tim _cackles_.


	7. Meet the Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for the team meeting Jay. Let's just say this all ends in yelling and massive confusion.

It'd been a false alarm. Some confusing jumble of misinformation and spectacular explosives that had worked to get them all out of the Tower and chasing shadows until Robin had a brainwave and started cursing. Loudly and fluidly enough for Kon to think he now knows what it's like to lose years off of his life.

"T, do you hear me?" Robin says. One hand up and pressing against her ear in a display that she normally doesn't use. One she's made fun of others for doing. Pointing out how pressing the tiny earbud doesn't do anything to make it louder. "T, say something," Kon looks under her mask and sees her eyes flicker rapidly, like she might be reading something on the inside of her lenses. A few seconds drag by slowly and tortuously. Cassie drops down next to Kon and hovers by his shoulder. Her body tense and head turned toward where the Tower is. "T! Tell me you-" Robin breaks off with a hiss and is moving. Bounding over rooftops and Kon is following automatically. Blue Beetle shouting out a question as Kid Flash takes off without question. "The Tower has been compromised!"

Kon doesn't ask how she knows that, or bother wondering what Cyborg is going to say about his security system when he gets back from where ever he decided he needed to be this weekend. He just takes off, because there's no one in the Tower except for Tim. While Kon's pretty sure the dude can kick his ass --he's from _Gotham_ and has Bat approval, of _course_ he can do it in some terrifying way-- alone and not responding is not a good combination. Kon pours on the speed, leaving the rest of the team behind and arrives at the Tower a few minutes after Bart. Enough time for him to go through the entire building two or three times.

Bart is on the roof, waving madly and Kon drops down next to him. Fists clenched and a funny swoop in his gut that makes him tense. "What?! Where is-"

"Shhh!" Bart jumps forward, clapping both of his hands over Kon's mouth and he goes still under his friend's vibrating hands. Bart's looking around like he's expecting someone to overhear, and that's an idea. Kon turns his focus down to the Tower. Looking for the now familiar sound of Tim's heart, and hearing-

"Mpgh!" Kon quickly focuses on something else. _Anything_ else. He shoves Bart's hands away and exclaims, "Are you kidding me!? We thought he was being attacked and he's just getting lucky!?"

Bart groans and buries his face into his hands. There's a ringing silence that's only broken by another groan that isn't Bart's. Stephanie's voice comes over the _open_ comms, clear and pissed sounding in a way that's always promised pain and bloody retribution, "I'm going to _kill_ those two assholes."

~

Kon doesn't like this, not one bit. He crosses his arms and squints down at the man who's taken over one of the couches. Sprawling across it like it's _his_ and not seeming the least bit impressed by the amount of hostility being thrown at him from almost all corners of the room.

"But," Bart says, quite reasonably, "I thought he was one of the bad guys."

"Yep," Red Hood says at the same time Tim, seated comfortably on the man's stomach, shakes his head and says, "No."

Stephanie, crouched on the back of the couch shrugs, "It's complicated."

"Complicated is for Facebook," Cassie says. She's calm and collected, but focused on Red Hood in a way that Kon knows means she's ready to throw down. No matter what Tim or Steph might say. There's a reason she's the leader, and Kon's feeling happy about it right now. Mostly because he knows if he were to try to ask anything right now, all that'd come out would be noise. No words. 

"Seems complicated enough to me," Kon hears Blue mutter in the kitchen to Speedy. The two electing not to participate in the interrogation early on, but not leaving completely like Ravager had.

"Funny, I'd call it 'none of your business,'" Red Hood says with a smirk that seems perfectly calculated to make people want to _punch_ it. Cassie twitches and the smirk only gets wider. "Besides, you lot needed to get out a bit, stretch your legs. It's not good for your health to stay cooped up all the time, you know?"

"And, I'm done," Steph hops down off the couch and heads towards the kitchen. Waving over her shoulder as Tim sends a longing look at her back. Red Hood doesn't look away from Cassie, but one of his arms twists around Tim. Keeping him firmly in place. "Have fun defending your assholishness yourself, Bro."

"Love you too, Sis," Red Hood calls out. Sarcastic as nothing else, but also, honest?

"Wait, what?" Kon says, over Bart's confused noises.

"It's complicated?" Tim says with a shrug when Steph disappears and Red Hood doesn't say anything else. Seems to have gone to sleep actually. "Really, _really_ complicated."

"Well," Cassie settles into the chair she'd claimed early and gives Tim a stiff smile, " _un_ complicate it for me."

Tim looks so miserable that Kon almost feels sorry for him. Almost.


	8. Screw Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for some of Jay's POV on the end of chapter one of Doubting Gets You Places.

The thing with anger is that it eventually wears off. The sharp edge of rage slowly blunting as the seconds slip by until Jason can really start to think for himself with out a haze clouding his mind. More often than not it leaves him kicking himself for something he'd done or not done. Something that had slipped by him because he was too wrapped up in emotion. Something that's usually minor, and only occasionally vital.

Rarely, he comes out of it thinking he'd be better off having stayed in his grave. It's just too fucking bad that 'rarely' doesn't mean it never happens.

Jason slams the door of his temporary warehouse closed, and turns on his heel to hammer his fist into the wall. Hard. It dents under the force of the blow and Jason grits his teeth through the red hot swell of pain that shoots up his arm from it. "Fuck!"

Tim's eyes, bright with actual fear are burned into Jason's mind. Right along with the desperate sound of his voice as he choked out his name. His _actual_ name. Something that Jason had been looking forward to hearing the little snitch say, and now-

Jason pulls his fist back and punches it forward again. And again when that doesn't get him the same level of pain that he's looking for. That he _wants_. He's lost Tim, lost the bright eyed man who smiled so easily and welcomed his touch every time. Jason lost control and it was Tim who paid for it.

The wall groans and shudders, his knuckles are on fire, and the impact shudders up his arm. None of it does anything to erase any of what he's done from his mind.

~

It makes sense, when Jason can think about it later as he cleans the split cuts on his knuckles, that Tim would know him. 

He's one of the eyes and ears for Oracle. It's his _job_ to know these things, and no matter how much of a secret they all like to think they are it's inevitable that someone would figure them out. It just shows how damn good Tim is at his job.

__The fact that their identity --all of them, because it's very easy to connect the dots when you get a hold of one of their names-- isn't common news speaks a lot about either Oracle's allegiances or Tim's. Jason isn't really sure which thought he's willing to bet on it being both of them._ _

__Oracle sides with the law too often to be strictly neutral, and Tim has always been hesitant when the matter of the masked crowd comes up. Jason wonders how close that alliance is as he tries not to think about the way Tim crumpled when he let him go. The little sound of pain he'd made as Jason had backed away._ _

__It doesn't work very well._ _

__~_ _

__Tim has beautifully fair skin that marks far too easily. Jason's reminded of that when he sees the horribly vivid marks spreading across Tim's face. Bright bruises that'd fit perfectly with the shape of his own hand._ _

__The sight of it makes Jason's stomach turn, because _he_ did that. He hurt his Baby Snitch like that. _ _

__Jason can't take watching Tim move around stiffly for too long. Holding his entire body in a way that lets Jason know the bruises on his face aren't the only ones there. He can't sit there and watch him without wanting to go another few rounds with a wall. Maybe a concrete one._ _

__Jason just can't make himself stop from keeping an eye on the snitch._ _

__~_ _

__Jason's screwed up plenty of times in his life. He's almost used to the inevitability of it all now. It sucks and it hurts like a bitch, but he's gotten used to that too._ _

__He turns a knife he special ordered from Talia's sources in his hands. The edge is lethally sharp and catches in the low light coming in through the room's windows. He's tested it, and knows that it will work exactly as he wants it to. He places it on the windowsill and retreats the the window he came in through to wait._ _

__He's used to screwing up, and he's also grown used to apologizing for said screwups. Not easily, but he does it anyway. Especially now, in cases like this where he's probably going to lose one of the best things in his life._ _

__Jason settles in to grimly wait._ _


	9. I Doubt It Happened This Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt was for Jason's POV during the fear gas incident. I wrote the beginning before bothering to read what I had already written about the incident. Needless to say, I goofed bad. So here's an AU thing that did not in fact ever happen. It's just got a good bit of Jason angst that I didn't want to toss out as I go back and start the prompt over.

Jason wakes up from a nightmare of crazed laughter and the tiny, pained sounds Tim had made, and he knows instantly exactly where he is. He knows where he is and how he got there. Partly because even though the fear gas had him acting out of control, it hadn't shut his mind down completely. Mostly, he knows because he can hear the sound of Babs' voice chewing up one side of an ass and straight down the other.

"You didn't even think to check," her voice is low and harsh in that way that Jason's only ever heard a handful of times before. Directly preceeding some major carnage that he wasn't allowed to ever try to stop. "Do you think I'm careless? That I would send just anyone to a secure house? Tim is one of _mine_ , and I've promised to take care of him. I _trust_ him with everything."

It's not a yell, but the sentence echoes in the small lab that he's in anyway. Jason turns his head on the table he's laid out on, and looks past the IV lines hooked up to him. He's not surprised to see Dick, he remembers hearing his voice in his nightmares. He is a little surprised to see _Bruce_ though.

Cowl pulled back as he braces his fists on a small console and says, accuses, his voice tight and controlled, "You told him about us."

"No," Babs says and there's a hint of a laugh in her voice that makes Dick flinch a bit even as Bruce goes even stiller. "I didn't have to. He already knew everything when he came to me."

"What?" Dick breaks in as Jason works on sitting up. He's tired as fuck, and every shift drains a lot out of him but he pushes it. Levering himself up slowly onto his elebows. "How did he find out?"

"Ask him yourself. It's quite a story," Babs is still pissed, her voice still clipped. "He told it to me when I was still in the hospital," _when_ does not need to be explained any further. Not to anyone in the room. "When he felt that the city was falling apart and that _Batman_ wasn't doing much better. He came to me and asked me to help him fix it, to stop a descent that he thought was inevitable. And I did. I listened to him and we both _fixed_ it and you just shoved him back ontot he streets, infected with fear gas that's knocked Hood out of it."

It's taken Jason this long of listening in to draw the connections. That Babs is talking about Tim and acting protective of him because the little snitch works for her, because she's Oracle. Jason'd feel a little dumb, but his head is still reeling. Just a bit.

Sitting up and slinging his legs over the side of the table doesn't help a hell of a lot either. He's down to a short sleved shirt, pants, and boots. His helmet isn't anywhere in sight, and most of his weapons are gone with it. He's got two knives and a set of lock picks on him right now. Good enough.

"Jay!" Dick's next to him in a flash when Jason's boots thump to the ground. Hands grabbing for him before Jason can shake the asshole off. "What are you- Lay back down! You're still suffering from-"

"Fuck off, Dickhead!" Jason throws a punch that isn't very good, but makes the man back off. It's awkward given the lines he has to pull out of his arms with a sharp yank. The needles bleeding pinkish fluid as he drops them.

"Jay, you got dosed with a high concentration of fear gas," Dick says, careful to keep his distance. Voice calm and even like he's reasoning with a jumper, and palms spread wide to show his lack of weapons.

"No shit, I was there. Think I figured it out when clowns started chasing me around the docks!"

Dick flinches like Jason's punch from earlier had connected, and the rigid silence behind them that Jason's been trying to ignore gains a lot of weight. "Jason."

And no. No, just fuck this all.

Jason spots his jacket near a door that he hopes leads out and away. His first few steps are stumbles, but by the time he's scooping the armored leather up he's got enough of a hang of it that he doesn't plant his face into the concrete. 

"Fun as this is, I'm going to have to bail on you," the locks are complicated as fuck, but they're computerized and open without him having to do anything. Jason carefully doesn't think about who might be undoing them as he shoves the door open over Dick's protests. "I'd say thanks for the save, but it sounds like you did a half-assed job of it. As usual."

The door slams shut behind him and Jason wastes no time hauling his ass away.


	10. Fear's Effects

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for Jason's POV during the first time. Which I rolled over into the the other request for his POV for the after effects of the fear gas.

Jason wakes up swinging. His ears are ringing with insane cackling and pained whimpers, and it's a fucking relief when his fist catches on something soft that grunts as it recoils from him.

"Jay!"

He gets tangled up in some IV lines flipping off a too hard cot, but the needles rip right out of his arms with small stings of pain that help to clear his mind a bit. Bring him back a bit more into the now and away from a world made up of white grins and fearful blue eyes.

"Get off me!" Jason shrugs the hands --Dick, in uniform but no mask-- off him and reels back hard into a cabinet of medical supplies. It slams into the wall of what looks to be a small bolthole with a rattling crash. Jason slumps there for a bit, tired as fuck and panting from that little bit of exertion. "Just fuck off Dickhead."

Dick looks _relieved_ and Jason'd be more worried about that if he weren't so busy trying to figure out how the fuck he got where he is now. He was chasing some deals down on the docks earlier. Breaking a few jaws on some surprised looking thugs faces is his last really clear memory. Jason drags a hand over his face hard, trying to reach for more, and he breathes in deep.

The smell hits him then. It's faint, but no one in Gotham can ever actually forget the way fear gas smells after being hit with it once. Jason pulls his hand away and something dark flakes off his fingers. Dried blood, but looking closer there's something else. A residue that fits the scent. "Fuck me, Crane?"

"You got an overdose somehow," Dick says, grim but soothing all at once. Like he's afraid he'll spook Jason somehow by saying the wrong thing. He's got his hands up and out, like he's talking to a jumper, and it'd make Jason snarl but his throat feels like ground hamburger at the moment. 

He tries not to wonder what he was screaming about while out of it.

Dick's still looking at him and Jason doesn't like the look he sees there. It isn't one he's used to ever seeing in Dick. Not from _before_. Not from when he was a stranger who was supposed ot be his brother and only ever looked at him when there was no other choice. 

It's kinda funny how Jason used to resent the hell out of the man for feeling so betrayed by Bruce giving the Robin panties over to Jason. So funny he could scream seeing pictures of that new little blondie girl wearing a fucking short skirt and being mentored by a smiling Nightwing. Being accepted into the family in a way that Jason never really had been.

Dick doesn't get to look at him like that. He's got no fucking right at all to act all concerned.

Jason does snarl, and it hurts exactly as much as he'd thought it would, "What, you looking for me to _thank_ you for dragging my sorry ass off the streets? Damn but I must've been out of it if you're not wearing any holes."

"You got a few good swings in before I could get you on the tables," Dick's voice is flat and that look bleeds out of his eyes fast. Good, Jason doesn't want anymore misplace pity or charity. "But, I'm sorry to say," Dick's smirk makes it perfectly clear he isn't, "that the kids Oracle sent to drag you in must've made off with your guns. Probably payment for bleeding all over his camera."

Oracle is said in such a familiar way that Jason has no doubts now that she works for Bruce in someway. Jason's set back y the confirmation a bit until the last part of Dick's words hit home. Oracle has many eyes and ears, but only a few actually use cameras. And only one of them could be called a kid.

Dick's head makes a satisfying crack as it bounces off the wall when Jason shoves him into it. Both hands balked up on the stretchy material of his outer suit. "Tim? The baby fucking snitch brought me here!?"

"Jay! Take it easy," Dick grits out as hands come up around his arm. Twisting painfully enough to force Jason to let go. "Yes, one of Oracle's people brought you here. He's long gone by now. Don't worry-"

Jason's fist makes an even more satisfying crack against Dick's face. The older man drops like a sack of bricks but Jason's not paying much attention. There's better things that need to be dealt with. He grabs his jacket, tossed carelessly on the floor, and runs for it.

~

The memories shake loose slowly as he alternates running with bus rides.

Jason can recall Tim's voice. Wavering and small as it told him to let go of his gun. He has one very clear image of blood rolling down Tim's face to go with it. Everything else is just nightmare fuel and Jason prays to fuck knows what that it's all just the fear gas.

~

He's winded and ducking down air in gasps by the time he ends up at Tim's place. Whatever Crane did to him still kicking his ass hard.

There's no light on, no sign if life as he lets himself into the second floor room. Tim's sacked out. Jason can only see a hint of his hair poking out from a blanket burrito. There's no obvious sign of distress, but Tim's good at hiding a lot.

It takes a few pulls the extract Tim from the blankets, and he makes a distressed noise at the action that does bad things to Jason's heart. Tim looks fine though when he rolls him over. Better than fine even. The sick mottling of bruises is gone now. Leaving Tim completely unmarked.

There's no new bruising, no sign that Jason had hurt him more. No sign that anything he thought had happened actually did.

Tim's eyelids flutter slightly in the throes of a dream. The fear and adrenaline that'd carried Jason through a good portion of the city leaves him fast, and Jason slips onto the bed. It creaks under his weight but Jason's tired. To damn tired in more ways than he ever thought possible.

He kicks off his boots and slides into the bed with Tim. Tucking his head under his chin when Tim rolls over and nuzzles himself in close to Jason. Unconsciously seeking out the source of heat in the bed.

Jason breathes in the scent of Tim that he's missed so much it almost hurts to have it again and closes his eyes. Letting himself go and get the rest he really needs.

~

The sun's edging up into the sky when Jason wakes up. He's almost too warm from sleeping fully dressed, but he's too damn comfortable to want to do anything to fix that. He dozes for a while. Not fully asleep, but flirting with it until his bladder demands his cooperation. It's not easy letting Tim go, but he's not got much choice.

He kicks the battered bag Tim carries on his way back. It's solid and rattles reassuringly enough that Jason knows where every piece of gear he's missing is.

Tim's rolled over into Jason's spot during his brief trip to the bathroom and Jason eases back into the bed. Propping his back against the headboard so he's sitting up. Tim, again, rolls over towards him. Face smashing itself against Jason's thigh and one arm getting flung out over him.

Jason grins and reaches down to trace Tim's face in the now brighter light of the morning. Ghosting his index finger along unblemished skin and lightly trailing the tip along his lips. Feeling the faint stir of breath as he does.

It's soothing in a way that very few things are to him anymore. Jason touches each part of Tim's skin that's exposed. Memorizing the bits by touch and sight. Wanting this one moment here to stretch on for longer than it can and knowing it's already coming to an end as the pulse he's been periodically checking speeds up and Tim's face stops being so slack looking.

"I'm sorry," Jason says and feels his throat clicking as he speaks. Not as painful as last night, but he could do with some orange juice and a gallon of water. "Don't know how that fucker got the jump on me, but...."

"It's ok," Tim's voice is low and a little scratchy too as he turns his face to press harder into Jason's leg. He's not flinching or pulling back and Jason feels damn good about that. "I'm sorry too."

He's sorry? Jason frowns and rubs a little harder at the skin he's touching. Edging just past the neck of the shirt Tim's wearing. His memory is pretty fucked from last night, but Jason's pretty damn sure that Tim has nothing to apologize for. "For what?" 

"For getting so mad about," Tim sighs and pulls away. Jason goes still and doesn't reach for him as he rolls onto his back. Blue eyes deadly serious as Tim looks up at him. "The knife. I shouldn't have said-"

"Forget it," Jason cuts him off quick, the memory of that day still stings but Jason deserved it. Fuck Jason deserved more than that really. He looks away and wants to shrug it all off, shrug it away, because Tim doesn't pull back when he puts his hand down on his shoulder.

And this is good, damn good, Jason wonders if it's too much to ask that it just be like this between them. That they not talk about it because the argument could kick up again and leave them both more hurt than before. Jason shakes his head sharply. "It was stupid. I get it."

The mattress shifts with Tim, but he doesn't say anything in response. Fingers reach out and drag down Jason's nose and to his mouth. Barely brushing his lips in passing. "How you feeling?"

"I'll be fine," Jason grins, eyes sliding back to Tim who is smiling slightly right back at him. He catches Tim's retreating hand and presses a kiss to the fingertips. Tasting the faint tang of salt and something that might be rust. "Much better now, baby snitch."

"Strange how that works," Tim says and his voice goes high and strangled as Jason presses a kiss to each finger individually. Biting every other one gently just to hear the way his voice hitches in surprise. "I think, you've got a promise to fill if you're up for it though."

And that is a damn good point. Jason chuckles and lets Tim go long enough to get a hand in his soft hair. Pulling him in and urging his head to tilt enough to make that first kiss, their first real one, sweet and perfect.

Tim's lips are soft and giving under his own. Shifting as Tim moves up and into his lap. Getting close enough for Jason to wrap him up completely in his arms. So he can feel nothing else but Tim against him.

Tim sighs and Jason takes the opening as it's presented. Easing his tongue into Tim's mouth with all the finesse he managed to learn before dying, when every encounter with a pretty little thing never went beyond what they could get away with hiding out in a dusty closet at school or behind a velvet curtain at a gala event.

Fleeting little moments and crushes so far removed from the weight of Tim on his lap and the noises he makes as Jason flips them over to press him into the bed. Putting his weight behind the kiss as Tim spreads his legs wide around Jason. Letting him in so they're pressed tight together and Tim's rubbing up against him helplessly. Jason feels the change through both their layers when Tim starts to get hard. That's every bit as fucking fantastic as it is painful for him because Jason's still fully armored and the cup in the jockstrap he's wearing isn't doing him one damn bit of good right now.

Jason breaks off with a gasp and can't help rolling down on Tim even as the pressure of his growing erection is starting to get painful. Tim feels it too going by his slight flinch and Jason manages to force himself back a bit more, get a hand into his jeans to shift things around enough to be workable.

The distance gives Jason a damn fine view of Tim too. He's flushed and panting all laid out below Jason. Lips slick and puffy from the kiss and jeans straining in a rather obvious way. "Take your pants off." 

Tim's fingers fly over the button and zipper and Jason helps him with that. Getting the fingers of his hands into the elastic band of the rather plain looking boxers as Tim arches up to push the tangle of clothing down. It's a display that almost has Jason groaning, but he's got a plan here now and he can only keep one eye on the way Tim's moving as he lunges over to the small beside table.

"Jesus, don't you have-" the drawers are filled with all sorts of crap, but nothing that he'd fully expect a teenager to have on hand. No lube or condoms or even the tissues that Jason had started keeping in his room the night his dreams started coming with wet advisories. A small pump bottle of hand lotion rolls around in the last drawer and Jason snatches it up with a growl as he twist back around. "Fuck it, this'll do."

It's cold in his hand and Jason leans down over Tim. One hand propped up on the mattress as he kisses him again. Hard and deep to distract him as he reaches down to get a good grip on Tim's dick. 

"Look at you," Jason says when he pulls back and gets a good look at his baby snitch. Eyes blown wide and mouth open on a panting gasp. His dick red and dripping in Jason's hand as he twists his hand up and down it. "You're gorgeous like this, babe, all laid out for me. I could just watch you fall apart like this all day."

"Jason!" Tim whines as his whole body clenches and arches up into him. Begging with his body and mouth. "More. I want more, Jason! You can-"

"Won't lie to you, Tim," Jason admits as Tim trails off into a stifled cry. "I've never actually done this with a guy before."

Jason shifts again, the cup sliding back into painful range for a moment before he has to reach down again and shove it away. The jockstrap tangling a little too messily to deal with right now.

"Oh?" Tim moans and it takes Jason a few frazzled seconds to realize it's a word and not just a sound. "You seem to be, ah," Tim's breathy as he rolls his hips up into Jason's next downstroke, "doing just fine."

"Hmhm," Jason hums as he looks down Tim's body to where his dick is. It's encouraging, but Jason wants that 'more' as much as Tim does. He lets go and Tim makes a protesting noise but doesn't otherwise stop him as Jason reaches further down. Fingers tracing behind his balls, the sensitive skin behind them, and up to his hole. He circles it with slick fingers before pressing lightly there. "Can I?"

Tim's eyes are almost colorless blue when he opens them and looks up into Jason's eyes. There's no hesitation in them or his body as he spreads his legs even wider. His voice thick in a way that makes Jason want to drop to his knees and see how much lower it can get. "Yes, please Jason."

Jason watches Tim's face as he sinks one finger into him. Slow and steady. Tim takes it easily, his body not rejecting the intrusion and his face showing no sign at all of discomfort. Snitch has done this before, and Jason wants to see that one day soon.

"Another," Tim's eyes flutter before opening again to fix on Jason. "I can take more."

"Touch yourself, baby," Jason says as he works on pressing another inside. He pushes even further away so he can lean back a bit and watch. "Let me see you ride my hand as you jerk off."

Tim obeys without questioning as Jason pulls his finger out. He waits to push back in when Tim's fingers are wrapped around his dick. Twisting up and making his breath catch. 

Tim doesn't take the two fingers as easily as he did the one, and his hand falters the slightest bit before picking back up but his dick doesn't so much as drop as Jason pushes in deep. Curling his finger and angling them slightly differently with each move until Tim goes rigid and he cries out once. Sharp and loud enough to almost echo.

"There?" Jason's fucking hooked as he watches Tim's face. Trying to get the angle right again and knowing he's found it when Tim jerks against him. His face lighting up from the pleasure of it each time Jason finds it. "Come on," Jason bends back down to press a kiss to Tim's throat. Feeling the way Tim's whole body trembles as he bites down. Catching on a bit of skin and worrying it with his teeth and tongue until he's sure there's a mark there. One that doesn't make his stomach recoil when he pulls back to look down on Tim.

"Say it," Jason growls as he kisses Tim's face, his fingers working Tim almost as hard as Tim's working his dick. "I want to hear my name when you come, pretty boy."

It's suddenly the most important thing in the world to Jason. Tim's only ever said his name the once and Jason wants it again. Wants to hear it tripping off Tim's tongue as he comes screaming. Jason pushes harder, twisting his fingers in a way that makes Tim's breath come out in a stream of noise. "Come on, baby, say it!"

"Ja-" Tim starts to say before a hard shiver breaks it apart, and then he's bucking. Arching hard and clenching tight around Jason's fingers, eyes screwing shut as he comes, "Jason!"

"Fuck, yeah," Jason breathes as he presses a kiss onto Tim's open, panting mouth. Twisting his fingers as Tim shudders through it, come hitting high on his stomach and all over his hand as the shudders go from pleasured to painful.

Jason pulls out slowly and Tim shakes again as he looks up. Dazed and come stupid, white streaks dirtying him up and his shirt pushed up under his armpits. Tim's a thousand different wet dreams that Jason's had over the years and Jason can't wait one more second.

He gets up on his knees and finishes undoing his own pants, groaning in relief as he reaches in and fists his own neglected dick. Just this touch is almost enough to send Jason over the edge, and it'd probably be embarrassing but fuck if Jason cares. Tim is that fucking hot.

"Let me," Tim says and he's pulling himself up too. Using Jason as a kind of ladder as his right hand pushes in beside Jason's. "I want to touch you."

"Do it," Jason hisses and pulls back when Tim pushes further. His hand isn't as soft as Jason thought it would be, but it doesn't fucking matter one bit when Tim curls it into a tight circle and _twists_.

Jason wraps his arms tight around Tim and buries his face in his snitch's neck as he thrusts into the fist Tim's made. Hot breath flows across Jason's ear making his mind short out completely when it's followed by a wicked tongue. Soft lips following and Jason groans into the flesh pressed tight to his lips as he closes his eyes. Vision flashing as Tim twists his hand and it feels so fuck good. So damn fucking good that Jason opens his mouth wide. Sets his teeth into the skin and bites again.

Tim jerks and his hand spasms, and that's it. Jason shouts as he comes his brains out. Come soaking into the fabric of his pants as he hangs onto Tim while the world fucking rocks around him. Tim's fingers let go slowly, reluctantly before sliding out. Leaving Jason a pleasantly fuzzy wreck of a man.

"Going to do that again, baby," Jason groans before pulling Tim into a kiss. Pressing his tongue in deep to show how damn much he means those words.

Every fucking time he sees Tim, any fucking where. Jason's not going to be satisfied with anything less than this. Tim all pliant as he pushes him back into the bed. Sweetly responding to each kis, and his skin all warm under Jason's hands. Making tiny little noises that'd make Jason crazy if he weren't so spent.

Eventually, Tim stirs and pulls away enough to look across the room. His neck arching in an invitation that Jason takes. It's a school day, Jason vaguely recalls, which means Tim's going to need to get up and going soon. "You need a shower, babe." 

Jason laughs as he shifts back, getting a good feel for the way his pants have become stick and tacky against his skin. "We both need one actually."

Tim snorts out his own laugh and pushes Jason out of the bed with his feet.


	11. Non Issue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt for Jason and Jack Drake. I really do shit on Jack's character in this story, please understand that it's just one route that Jack could have taken and I did rather like his character in the comics. Most of the time.

Jack Drake is almost a non-entity in Tim's life. Jason has to remind himself that the man actually exists every now and then. That Tim doesn't actually just rent out the top floor of some paraplegics' home and takes care of it from the stairs up. A mutually beneficial relationship where the two only occasionally meet. It's almost a shock when Jason stops and reminds himself that the drunk man wheeling himself around down stairs while Tim sleeps off a long night against Jason's shoulder is the baby snitch's _Dad_.

Tim doesn't talk about it, and it doesn't seem to bother him too much. Sometimes, when the old man catches him and demands they talk, Tim'll get a pinched look that sticks around a while. He'll mope a bit and spend more time downstairs. Emptying bottles and trying to encourage Jack to use the physical therapy gear that's been gathering dust for a while. It doesn't work and Tim doesn't persist in trying very long before they slide back into that distant relationship again. Two strangers living in the same house.

Jason doesn't fully understand it, and he doesn't even try. Jack Drake doesn't play much of a role in Jason's plans. He's a convenient home base for his little stalker and nothing more. The man's so wrapped up in his own tragedy and grief he can't see anything past the bottle he's drinking from, and Jason can't help thinking that's for the best.

He's seen too many men where Jack is. Seen them turn all that outward in the form of abuse. Words and fists and whatever else might be at hand. Jack Drake didn't chose that road thankfully, and Jason doesn't have to contend with wanting to kill the man.

Sure, it's a hell of a case of neglect, and Jason knows damn well that can be just as bad if not worse than the back of a hand. But from the way Tim acts, the way he _is_ , Jason thinks that boat's sailed the world twice over and gone down burning. Tim is Tim, and part of Tim being who he is lays in his childhood. An event that doesn't seem to involve anyone named Mom or Dad very much.

Jack Drake is a non-entity in Tim's life. Which makes him nothing in Jason's. It suits them all just fine that way, so Jason doesn't give much thought to the distant looking man in a wheelchair he occasionally sees going to meet Tim.


	12. Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for Tim putting himself in danger and Jason freaking about it.

Everything had been fine, Tim had it all under control and wasn't in any danger at all. Tim's a risk taker, sure, but he's not actually suicidal. Though it's hard to tell that with the way Jason's laying into him as he --carefully, and Tim's thankful for that because he's also not a masochist-- stitches up a gash in Tim's left side.

"What the ever loving fuck, Tim?" Jason loops back around to his starting point in his rant, and Tim sighs as he gets to hear it all over again for the third time. Yay. "Ninja _fucking_ assassins! What the hell were you thinking trying to out ninja them? You're damn lucky this isn't poisoned too!"

"It was just a misunderstanding," Tim bites out between his clenched teeth as there's an extra tug against his side. It's the end of the stitches, he knows that, but it still feels awful. 

"Yeah, a misunderstanding," Jason growls as he wipes over the stitches, getting some of the blood cleaned up before patting it dry. A white gauze square already out and ready to be taped down. "Whoops, sorry we _killed_ you because we thought you were a threat and not the informant we were meeting! My bad."

Tim looks down at the long line of stitches before Jason covers it up. Moving is going to be interesting for the next few days before he gets used to them. "They're ninja, Jason, if they wanted me dead I would be dead."

"Not the fucking point, babe," Jason says and the growl is dying. His anger is always quick to flare up and almost as quick to die. His hand lingers over the gauze after it's taped down. Light enough not to hurt. "Fuck, Tim."

"I'm fine," Tim leans forward and Jason leans down to bury his face in Tim's shoulder, the last bits of anger draining in an instant. Tim winds his arms around Jason's back and leans against him fully. Closing his eyes with a sigh. "Everything is fine."

And it was. Tim had been perfectly aware of the dangers of his meetup, and they'd been risky but not deadly. Worth it for the information Babs was currently going through. Everything was just fine.


	13. Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for Babs giving Jason a talk about his relationship with Tim.

"We need to talk."

Jason's heart damn near sinks when the familiar voice breaks through the digital voice he's grown so used to hearing when dealing with Oracle. Talia's latest info dump had made the information broker's identity very clear a couple months too damn late for Jason to back out of dealing with her, but he gets the feeling Babs has her fingers dug too deep in Gotham for that to have mattered much.

"Yeah, what about?" It's a hostile and down right bitchy tone that never failed to get Batgirl's pimp slapping hand itching, but Jason can't help it. The only person he wants to deal with less than Babs right now is Alfred. "My suspiciously loose morals, my miraculous return, or the fact that-"

"I was going to go with your intentions towards one of my best operatives," Babs cuts him off fast and cold. Her voice hard in a way he's never heard it before. "Since that appears to be the only part of your life I'm allowed to know about these days, but if you want to we could also talk about the massive chip on your shoulder."

Fuck but that stings. All of it. "I forgot what a bitch you could be."

"And I never forgot what a little asshole you could be," Babs shoots back and Jason recognizes this voice. It's the one that isn't buying what he's trying to sell and isn't afraid to hurt him to get back on track. Batgirl never took shit from anyone, not even her allies. "Now, Tim. What are your plans for _my_ kid."

There's a sort of protective possessiveness in the term 'kid'. The kind Jason'd expect out of a parent, and it fucking figures Babs would be a fierce momma bird.

"You mean aside from every horizontal surface I can find, and maybe a few vertical ones too?"

"Cute," Babs snaps but there's a curl of amusement that makes Jason grin. The tension leaving him just a bit. "That part of your plan has been very obvious, and I'll be making quite a profit off of the videos from the cameras you've failed to dismantle for a while," Jason's not entirely sure if that's a joke or a threat and grimaces as he realizes he's going to have to ask Tim later. "What about Tim?"

"Fuck," Jason turns and paces in a tight circle. The tension back quicker than it left. With Jack Drake a drunk mess, he'd thought he'd gotten off from having to do this meet the parent bullshit. "I don't know. You asked for plans? That's it, that's all I have. Because we sure as fuck aren't having the picket fence house and three point whatever screaming babies. Not us, not with what we do."

"But would you want that?" Babs asks and her voice is bland and neutral.

Would he? Jason stops and considers it. Feels a chill crawl up his spine at the thought of that idealistic life, but- "I'd settle for an apartment and a dog."

Maybe another townhouse so Tim could have his darkroom and Jason could have an armory. A real kitchen because there's only so damn much you can do on a hot plate on top of a mini fridge. With clear roof access and maybe even a basement for the electronics Tim tinkers with. One that can easily connect with the sewer system for easy escapes.

The image is rather appealing, and as far as one can get from the picket fence dream shared by the rest of the country. Jason likes it. He wants it, but it's not really in the cards for him. Not yet at least.

"The fuck does it matter anyway?" Jason says as he pushes those thoughts away. "We're both too young to be thinking about that, right?"

"You are," Babs agrees readily, the humor back in her voice. "Now, do I need to explain to you how very easy it'll be to make death stick a second time around if I see another set of bruises on Tim, or can we skip that talk and move onto your issues?"

"We can skip that," Jason winces at the reminder. "In fact, we can skip all of that. Good talk, let's never do it again."

Jason hangs up on a robotic laugh and tosses the burner phone into the bay before turning to leave the docks. The unsettled feeling slowly eases up as he concentrates on the shit he needs to do and not the images Babs' words brought up.


	14. Block

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Request for the guys trying to go on a date and they keep getting interrupted by vigilantes in an attempt to protect Tim. Tim gets frustrated with this.

"No," Tim says when Dick Grayson casually brings up a chair to their table and squeezes in on the other side of Tim and Jason. Stephanie and Babs are already on the other side and exchanging friendly enough gossip to be ignored. "No, I refuse."

All talk ceases as Dick Grayson gives him a completely innocent look that makes Tim question the stupidity of people, because he knows how very many people fall for it.

"I didn't even ask you about the Teen Titans," he says with a mock sad voice as he not-so-subtly edges Jason's seat further away. Steph snickers into the milkshake she brought with her and Babs props her chin up on her fist as she watches. Amusement dancing in her eyes and out on her face.

"That's not what-" Tim stops and takes a measured breath in before letting go in an equally measured sigh. It's a sign of weakness that he's going to pay for, but less than if he'd finished that sentence and said something out of frustration. He needs to focus and keep an eye on the important matters here. "Why are you all crashing our date? Again?"

"Because they're all assholes," Jason says with a snort. The only sign he's given that he might be upset by the way their honest to god attempt at a date has gone from the second Babs showed up. "They can't help it. It's how they were made."

"Oh," Dick pulls an exaggerated face around the wide smile he's wearing. "I didn't know this was a date!"

"It's a sorry excuse for one," Steph cuts in around her straw as she determinedly sucks the thick ice cream up the too small straw. "Shakes are good, but couldn't you have gone for some place nicer?"

"They did," Babs says with a smirk as she twirls one finger in the air. "They almost even danced before Brucie crashed them."

Dick laughs and Tim tries to remind himself it's a bad idea to try to hurt a vigilante as extensively trained as Nightwing is. He tries. It's hard though to remember that past the anger that's been growing in him since the first date they'd attempted failed. A long line of attempted dinner, movies, and whatever else all interrupted by at least one of the Bats within an hour. Guaranteed.

Tim grits his teeth and reminds himself how very paltry his training is beside that of Batman. How very little muscle he has compared to Nightwing. He tries, but it's been a long four months and it feels so very good to sink his bony elbow into Dick's stomach. Hard and without any shred of remorse.

"Ffffffuuuu-" Dick curls up over his abused stomach and coughs hard as Tim glares across the table at the grinning Babs and suddenly wary Steph.

"A date. That's all I want, a _single_ date with my boyfriend," Tim seethes through his teeth at them. "Just _one_ date so I can say we actually _are_ dating and not just fucking on every flat surface we can find. Do I have to _find_ ways to make sure none of you interrupt that? Because you know I can find a lot of hidden little things to hold over your heads -- _all_ of your heads-- if that is what it takes."

The table is silent. Babs looks strangely proud as she smiles at him. Steph has stopped pulling on the straw and looks a little stunned. Dick has stopped coughing and is the first to move. He stands up gingerly and claps a hard hand to his shoulder. "Well, Timmy, you don't need to go that far. All you had to do was ask!"

Bull. Tim's been asking for months now and none of them have listened. He keeps the glare frozen on his face until Dick steps back and holds his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright. We'll go. You just be careful, now."

"That," Jason muses after they've all left, "has to be one of the hottest things I've seen you do yet, baby snitch."

Jason's grinning at him and there's an interested light to his eye that makes Tim want to squirm, but he smothers it fast. Because no. He meant every word he said to them. He fully plans on going through with this date to legitimize their status. Social concept it might be, but Tim's tired of only seeing Jason on jobs and to have sex with.

"I know they're just looking out for you. Make sure I'm alright or something," Tim says as he lets the rest of his anger out on a hard sigh. Rubbing both hands over his face before giving Jason a crooked smile. "But your family can be really nosy and annoying."

Jason stares at him. Face still and expressionless for a moment that makes Tim feel uneasy. Surprise slowly sweeps over his face as he shakes his head. "You have no idea. None at all do you?"

"About what?" Tim frowns as he asks. He hates open ended questions like that, because odds are very good he doesn't know and the person won't ever tell him what it is he doesn't know.

"Nothing," Jason proves him right with a laugh. He reaches out and grabs Tim by the arm. Pulling him into Dick's empty chair so he can wrap an arm around his shoulder. He grins right in Tim's face and lays a soft kiss on his temple. "I'm just damn lucky I met you."

Tim lets the compliment go and doesn't say he's the lucky one, because that'll lead somewhere sappy fast. He knows that from experience and he's not really prepared to do it in public. The soft looks they get from the waitress --finally-- bringing out their pizza is almost more than he can handle as it is.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Am I too late for the prompt thing?? Crosses fingers - "Doubting Gets You Places" and "The headlights bounced off another exit sign. And still, they drove on."

The headlights bounced off another exit sign. And still, they drove on.

Jason had shown up in his room with an expression that had made Tim's heart pound. Expressionless and just _void_ of anything was not a natural look for the man, "Let's go on a trip."

Tim hadn't protested or asked what was going on. He'd just grabbed the bag he had ready for when emergencies popped up and followed Jason out to a crappy little rust bucket car that had purred to life despite it's appearance. Tim hadn't said a word or even reached for his phone to see what Babs might have been saying about the exchange.

That was six hours ago. Six hours of silence and six hours of carefully not checking his phone.

The silence has grown so thick it's almost a threat by itself. Tim's certain they have to be coasting on or really close to empty by now, but Jason shows no sign of stopping. Tim cannot gather anything more from the silence and the waiting has finally worn him down.

"Jason," Tim's voice is quiet but Jason's fingers flex in surprise on the wheel. His eyes widen and Tim only notices because he's been watching the man's face intently. "What's going on?"

Jason's silent and for a moment Tim thinks he isn't going to answer. His hand shift eventually though and Tim waits as the car drift to a stop on the shoulder of the road. They're on a two lane highway in the middle of nowhere. Nothing but farm fields all around and they haven't seen a single other car in the last two hours. Jason opens his mouth and sucks in a breath but no words come out. He makes a frustrated noise and gets out of the car.

It's the first sign of any emotion since this whole trip began. 

Tim gets out of the passenger seat and sees that the small frustration has spread. Putting cracks in the mask Jason's been wearing. It's a relief when Jason stops pacing and slams his fist down on the hood of the car with a curse. Once, twice, three times before Tim walks up and grabs his wrist.

He's got no illusion about how well he can actually stop Jason from continuing his assault on the car, but Jason freezes anyway. His arms quiver with tension that won't be released.

"Jason, tell me," Tim demands and doesn't move or let go. It's easier, sometimes to demand answers from Jason than to ask. To force the man to talk and not let him think he has any choice in it. Easier for him to open up that way. Tim puts all the command he can manage into his voice. " _Now_."

Jason's breathing is loud and he doesn't look at Tim at all but he does answer, "I died today."

Tim flinches and loses his breath for a minute. The date floats briefly through his mind and he wonders how he could have forgotten that. This day has always been marked by the Bats of Gotham, and Tim was not an exception. He should have known. Should have realized....

Jason laughs and turns to slump down onto the hood, his arm dangling limply from Tim's grip. His eyes are bright but it's not tears in them as he grins up at Tim. Dark and twisted with the madness of the Lazarus Pit he's only begun to freely talk about. "Happy deathday to me."

Tim doesn't know what to say to that. What to say about any of it. Jason's hurting though, and trying to run from it with Tim. He doesn't know what to say, so he sits down next to Jason. Drapes himself over the other man and lets his presence comfort him.

He probably never will understand fully everything Jason's been through. Tim doubts anyone ever will, but Jason holds onto him tightly anyway. His hands gripping tight and desperate as he buries his face in Tim's shoulder. Pain and the memories of _everything_ wracking him as Tim tries his best to chase them away or at least make them bearable.

They don't drive anywhere for a good long while after that.


End file.
